The Very Height of Impropriety
by iggyfish
Summary: USUK twoshot, Gakuen!AU, contains yaoi, omorashi and, in the second chapter, lemon. Six friends' (if they can all be called friends) Silver DofE practice hike is taking longer than it should. And Arthur's had a little too much water to drink... 1k views? THANK YOU :D (you may post this on other sites, so long as you give credit :3)
1. Chapter 1

I drink from my water bottle, feeling the cool liquid slide down my throat, as if its sole purpose were to distract me from the exhaustion and growing pins and needles in my feet.

"It's this way!"

"Pozhaluista, Fredka, you did not even check the compass. How do you know that's the right way?"

"Isn't it obvious, Ivan? I know this is right, because I'm the hero and I'm always right!"

That bigoted git is the reason for my discomfort. Luckily this is the practice hike, so we're not going to fail our Silver Duke of Edinburgh and be forced to do it again. All we'll face are the stern comments from our supervisor.

Anyway, this third and final day is only supposed to be three hours' worth of hiking. Five hours have passed, and my body is becoming increasingly unable to cope with the extra walking.

"It's this way," Yao confirms, walking along the path to the left with Francis close behind. I quickly put my rucksack back on and follow them.

"Hey, where do you guys think you're going?!" Alfred shouts.

"In the right direction," Ivan replies, joining the rest of us, as Matthew trails along behind, silently.

"Fiiiiine," Alfred moans, "just don't come crying to me when you realise how lost we are."

Suddenly, I feel a twinge in my bladder.

"Fuck!" I curse, too loudly.

"Oh my, Arthur, are you okay?" asks Francis teasingly.

Why did I get stuck with this bunch as my DofE group?

"I just tripped, git," I snap.

This could be a serious problem. There are no toilets on our route, so unless we can ignore Alfred completely and get back on track, I'm in trouble. Especially with the rate I've been drinking water thus far.

We reach a fork.

"Left!" cries Alfred.

Yao checks the compass carefully.

"Right," he concludes.

"Right," Ivan and Francis echo, the three of them heading along the right fork. Matthew follows them, quietly.

I go to follow them, but Alfred grabs my shoulder, dragging me towards him.

"You agree with me, right, Artie?" he says, grabbing onto and tugging my wrist with an excruciatingly painful grip towards the left path.

"Git! Let go of me this instant!"

I look towards the rest of the group, but they're all gone.

"It's this path, my hero instinct says so!" he proclaims, forcing me down the path.

"We...we mustn't get separated from the rest of the group!" I say, trying to be the voice of reason. My voice is slightly strained - just my bladder's reaction to the prospect of having to wait even longer.

"Nahh, they have no idea what they're doing," he replies, pulling me down the path, making my escape impossible.

He drags me past several turns, following his stupid "hero" instinct, dragging me along. All too late, I remember the technique Kiku taught me to get out of a hold.

I jab my elbow into my side and twist my forearm outwards, forcing him to let go.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"Capturing me and splitting the group in half," I mutter, crossing my arms. "We need to get back on the right path."

"Uhm, this IS the right path!"

"Bloody hell, do you even remember which paths we took?"

"It wasn't important to the hero!" he yells, fistpumping the air.

I sigh. "There's no need to be so narcissistic."

"What?"

"Nar-ciss-is-tic," I hiss. "I'm saying you're obsessed with yourself and yourself alone."

"Hey! You can't just stick that label on me because I'm always right!"

I wince. Stupid hip belt, why must you be in the perfect position to crush my bladder? Why? I pull it down slightly, which makes my bag feel heavier.

I hold my map within view in one hand and my compass in the other. I check which direction our current path, with no forks or intersections in sight, is taking.

"South-south-west," I mutter to myself. If I want to get out of this, it's best that I take initiative.

I pick out a path on the map that is most likely to be our path. Luckily, it's not far from our route.

"Left at the next fork and right at the one after that," I state to embed the directions in my mind, heading onwards.

"Wait up!" Alfred calls out.

We walk on, with me at the lead, taking the paths that I ensure are (most likely) correct, despite Alfred's protests.

It's just the two of us. Nobody else in sight. If I want to, I could confess my love and ravish him right now...

What? I can't be in love with him, that's simply ridiculous.

"I can hear the others!" he exclaims excitedly, before running off. Although he has a bag as heavy as mine, it isn't as much a burden to him as it is to me because he's athletic and maybe muscular- I don't love him I don't love him I don't love him!

I exhale heavily. This physical exertion isn't what I'm used to...

I try my best to keep up with him, but it's hopeless. I cry out for him to wait, but he's already out of sight.

Speed walking in the direction he'd previously fled, I see him returning, and my heart skips a beat. Bloody hell, I do NOT love that git!

"My bad! Just my imagination!"

"Your imagination is far too over-active," I reply, rolling my eyes. I hide my feeling of relief due to his presence.

I resume heading in the same direction, and he reluctantly follows. Perhaps he's getting bored.

"I'm boooooored!" he claims.

Yep.

"Tough luck," I reply harshly, my stride unfaltering, my need under control momentarily. Somehow.

We merge back onto the correct path, but the rest of the group are nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it," I curse. Our route took longer, so now we're a few minutes behind.

I mention this to Alfred, who suggests we simply run, but I object to it.

We continue walking along our actual route.

"Alfred?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"You know, if you want to run ahead and catch up, you can."

His face steels, an unfamiliar expression.

"I'm not leaving you, Artie. Not again."

Of course, he's not referring to when he ran off just now, but in an incident a few years ago...

"Hey!" he shouts, breaking my flashback. "We need to get moving!"

"Okay," I reply, half-heartedly, walking onwards.

The ensuing lack of conversation gives me time to think about everything and nothing.

Like how nice the weather is, and how much I need to piss. How uncharacteristically kind Alfred's being, and how much I need to piss. How beautiful that stream to our right is...

The stream trickles, assaulting my ears, teasing me. My bladder relaxes involuntarily and a drip escapes me.

"Fuck!" I curse, holding myself tightly to stop the flow. When did it begin to escalate THIS quickly?

"Are you okay, Artie?" Alfred asks, and I'm luckily turned away from him.

"Don't call me that!" I snap. "And I'm perfectly fine!"

"If you say so," he replies, shrugging. "By the way, your hip belt's not in the right place. You're making it harder for yourself."

I'm going to piss myself if I move it back, I almost reply.

"Here, let me help," he offers, his hands sliding towards the hip belt.

I blush and look away. He really can't read the atmosphere, can he?

He pushes the hip belt back up, increasing the pressure.

"Damn it," I breathe, biting my lip.

He moves away and, seeing the strain in my face, once again asks me what's wrong.

"I'm okay," I hiss, "just leave me alone."

It's too embarrassing to admit to such a need, and completely improper to relieve oneself outdoors!

But I really have to...

"Artie...do you want to take a break? I don't want you to be in pain..."

"How many bloody times must I tell you? I just want to get this over and done with!" I retort, trying to keep the way my thighs are pressed together inconspicuous. "Also, don't call me Artie!"

He shrugs and continues walking. I follow.

We step onto a road and Alfred proceeds to walk down the middle of it.

"Alfred! Keep to the side, you idiot!"

I guess he finds it a welcome contrast to the thin, muddy footpath we've been walking on.

"If you so wish, your Majesty," he remarks sarcastically, drifting over to one side.

Argh. I need to go, SO BADLY...

Suddenly, I hear a horn beeping. I look up, seeing a car approaching me.

Then, a weight - Alfred - slams into the side of me, knocking me to the ground, out of the way.

All of this shock makes me lose it. I shudder in fear, embarrassment and pleasure, all at once.

In the process, Alfred and I make awkward eye contact, and since he's on top of me after the ordeal just now...

He quickly scrambles off of me, cheeks flushed. All I can do is sit there as the liquid pools around me and he stares at me in shock.

Finally, the flow ceases after an eternity.

"Artie..." he mutters.

I sob. Why? Why me? Why now? Why in front of him? I am such a child, I couldn't even hold it...what's he going to think of me? There's no way he'll ever love me back...if I were in love with him, that is.

"Come on, get up," he says, holding out a hand.

I look up at him. He's smiling reassuringly, so I decide to take his hand.

"You know," he adds as he pulls me up to a standing position, "you could've just said."

"But that's improper!" I reply, weakly snapping at him.

"Not as 'improper' as actually wetting yourself - that's gross, dude."

"But...but you surprised me! Then you were lying on top of me as well!"

He rolls his eyes.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"It's...it's bad enough that you know, though..."

"Are we getting a move on or what?" he asks.

"Uhm...w-well...okay...but isn't someone going to see me?"

"It'll be fine," he replies. I don't know why I feel so at ease, despite everything, just because he's here and the unrealistic yet reassuring statements he makes to calm me down...

Thus, we walk on, even though I'm not too comfortable in my now-cool trousers...and the smell...and how anyone would be able to notice.

Approaching the stream we saw earlier, which ends up at a lake, he suggests we take a break. I all-too-gladly comply, feeling weak after the whole event.

We walk to the lakeside and place our rucksacks on the ground. Except Alfred throws his.

Then he suddenly scoops me up.

"What the hell do you think you're doing! Put me down!" I snap, writhing in his grasp.

He carries me, bridal-style, and then throws me into the water.

"There you go! Problem solved. Nobody will notice you pissed yourself."

He grins down at me.

"I CAN'T SWIM YOU BLOODY IDIOT!" I cry out, thrashing wildly in the water.

"Fuck, sorry," he mutters, going down on one knee by the lake's edge and holding out one arm. I flail around, trying to reach it, panic and fear gripping me each time I miss and my head sinks below the water.

After what seems like an eternity of almost drowning, I manage to latch onto his arm and he pulls me out of the water.

I cough up all of the lake-water I've swallowed.

"Alfred, you stupid, stupid, STUPID GIT!" I yell, stepping forward, the muddy puddle around me squelching, and I smack him round the face.

He clutches his cheek. That slap even stung my hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to put you in danger, I just thought..."

"It's okay," I mutter, looking at the ground as a blush crosses my face.

What is wrong with me? Slapping my crush like that...he's going to hate me now, he probably thinks I hate him!

"Really?" he asks. "Well, thanks...but you have every reason to hate me, I mean..."

I need to stop being so paranoid, I think, staring into his eyes as he lists everything he's done - if only he knew that those were reasons why I love him (his silliness is somewhat amusing). Staring into those beautiful, cerulean eyes...

"But, Alfred...I don't hate you," I mutter. "I..." the words freeze up in my throat.

He looks at me expectantly.

"I...I love you," I blurt out, instantly covering my mouth in disbelief and embarrassment. My clothes slosh uncomfortably against my skin. Ugh, they're freezing as well as soaked through.

He stares at me, stunned by my confession.

"Artie? Really? I..."

My gaze flickers up after he's been silent for a few seconds.

"I think I..."

Hopefully, I continue to focus on him. His mouth curves upwards into a smile and my arms drop to my sides.

"Hahahahaha! What were you expecting, dude? For me to be GAY?"

My eyes begin to sting, then tears flow down my cheeks. This is exactly why I didn't confess this much earlier, for the fear of rejection.

He stops laughing, seeing my face. "Artie? Oh, Artie, don't cry..."

He takes a step forwards; I take a step back.

"Hey, Artie. I-I was kidding. Sorry," he murmurs sheepishly.

I freeze for a moment in surprise, then look up at him timidly. Blinking incredulously, I shuffle slightly closer to him.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

And he kisses me on the lips. His arms drift around my back, pulling me closer in. I get braver, flicking my tongue towards his lips to encourage him to open his mouth, and he complies. Our tongues slide together as my hands slip onto his back. His hand finds its way inside my shirt...

I pull away. "Alfred...I can't, not here. This is the very height of impropriety."

"Dude, there's nobody here-"

"Back at the dorm, okay?" I suggest, smiling shyly. "Let's finish this hike first."

"Oh yeah," he replies, looking around and rubbing the back of his head, the other hand jammed in his pocket, "the hike. Our supervisor's gonna kill us."

"Sod that."

He grins. "Let's just not repeat this on the next hike."

"The part with your poor navigation, that is."

He feigns shock. "My hero instinct-"

"-is rubbish."

"Hey!"

I chuckle. "But seriously, we should get a move on."

"If we must..."

"Of course we must," I respond, rolling my eyes. "I'm not staying out here forever."

With that, we make our way back home in a relatively boring manner, with everyone else still well out of sight. And luckily, my clothes are drying and we're only around an hour away from our school. Also, Alfred hasn't forced me down any more wrong turns. Yet.

But, just to spend more time with him, I partially wish he would...


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Arthur..."

I jump. Alfred never calls me Arthur, even though we've been romantically involved for a month or so by now. What's his plan?

He leans on the door frame of our dorm room, which we share with Kiku.

"Can it wait? I'm in the middle of the good part here," I request, returning to reading my book. Or trying to.

"Heheh...you're already on the bed, that's pretty convenient."

I widen my eyes in surprise. "What exactly ARE you suggesting?!"

He shifts his weight so he doesn't need the door frame's support and swaggers over towards me. Yes, swaggers. With such a cocky air about him, it's clear that there's only one thing on his mind...

"It's about time I gave you your sixteenth birthday present...I'm sorry it's a couple of weeks late, I had so much to revise for..."

His right shin eases itself down onto the bed, on the other side of me. He looks at me with lust in his eyes and I return it with a flustered expression.

Knocking the book out of my hands, he leans over me, lifting his other leg from the floor to rest on the bed.

"Alfred, I-!" I gasp.

He stops his descent towards my face. "What is it?"

"Do you need to do this?" I ask, struggling to find other words to make this less awkward. It's not that I don't want this, I really do, but there's just that risk of embarrassment. "As in, right here?"

"Back at the dorm, okay?" he mutters in an approximation of my dialect. "I've been waiting since that hike for this. And now we have no exams anytime soon, I can finally attend to you."

My face reddens from all this talk.

"I wasn't thinking straight then, I mean, what if Kiku walks in?"

"He's too occupied with Feliciano and that German guy in the journalism club; he'll be gone for a while," he assures me, leaning in closer, slowly and steadily. My gaze flickers to his lips. Wouldn't it be nice to feel them reach mine again, like when we made out for the first time? Not all of those chaste, goodnight kisses. A proper make-out session would've clouded our minds for studying, I decided, so we refrained from them. But now...I guess I'm ready for this.

"Quit teasing me," I command.

"Oh, so NOW you want this? Make up your mind!"

"Bloody git," I mutter under my breath, "why do you have to take so long?"

Getting impatient, I throw my arms around him, accelerating the last few centimetres his lips are from mine. Our mouths clash together, and we continue that frenzied make-out session we were having during that hike, with even more intensity.

"Alfred...oh God, Alfred..." I moan into the kiss, panting. I can feel myself getting hard.

He slides one hand inside of my shirt again, pausing for a second to ensure he has my acceptance. My tongue lashes in his mouth more eagerly as a response, and he accepts it as a yes. His hand amorously moves up and down my side, and doesn't even stop (nor does the kissing) when I drag him down so my back is on the mattress. I don't know why I just did that...

My hips thrust upwards instinctively so that my growing erection brushes against him. Idiot...why do I even feel a sexual attraction towards him?

Alfred's other hand, which had been pressed into the bed, fumbles with the buckle on my trousers. In the heat of the moment, I let him, but barely suppressing (embarrassingly effeminate) giggles as he fails to do so with one hand.

"Sorry," he says as he breaks the kiss, sliding his tongue from my mouth and hand from inside my shirt at the same time. He hesitates before undoing the buckle.

"What're you waiting for?" I ask.

"Well, it'd be weird if you kept your shirt on for this..."

The full realisation of his intentions hits me. Normally, I'd have noticed it earlier, but I was lost in the moment!

"Sex?"

"Isn't that...what you wanted?"

Shit, he looks disappointed.

"N-no!" I blurt out. "It's just, I wasn't really thinking about it and I...I...!"

"What's the matter?" he asks, then his expression changes to mild surprise. "Are you a virgin by any chance?"

I look away. "Yes..." I mutter, embarrassed.

"But didn't you and Michelle," he makes swirling gesticulations, "you know...?"

"No!" I snap, turning back to look into his eyes. "Nothing happened between us!"

"If you say so," he mutters, unbuttoning my shirt. "I promise I'll be gentle."

"Uh-uhm, okay..."

As he's sliding my shirt off of my shoulders, I ask him if this is legal. Sixteen is the legal age, right?

He shrugs, tossing my shirt aside.

"Hang on a tick - you're NOT a virgin?"

"Of course I'm not! Do I look inexperienced to you?" He returns to an upright posture.

"...you're fifteen, aren't you? Your birthday's after mine."

"Actually, because I came here from America, I'm sixteen."

"That's still a young age to lose your virginity..."

"Dude."

"Can't you wait until you're married or at least...mature enough?"

"DUDE," he cuts in. "I do what I want." He licks his lips, moving closer again. "And who I want."

"But it means that I'm not the only one," I mutter sadly.

"Hm?"

"Nevermind."

"No, really. What did you say?"

"I was just wondering...am I...special to you? Or am I just another one of your...your..." I trail off.

"Oh please, THAT'S what you've been worried about?" He leans over me to stroke my hair. "Of course you're special to me...Arthur."

I smile, all negative feelings cast away by his words. He moves down to undo my belt before sliding my trousers off.

He then pauses, looking down at my cock (still clothed, may I add).

"Heh. Trying to see through them, love?" I ask in what I believe to be a sexyish tone. "Don't worry, you won't need your imagination in a second," I add. With courage I never knew I possessed, I take my boxers off and throw them aside.

"I was just thinking," he begins. When someone says that, it's usually for a bad reason... "I probably should've undressed myself before this point, haha."

"Uh, yes, of course. Go ahead."

However, he makes no move to take his clothes off already!

"I said go ahead..."

"Nah. I want you to do it~"

I gulp. "S-sure," I stutter, my hands reaching up to the top button of his shirt, uncertainly.

Shakily, I undo each button, my core muscles straining from being just slightly raised off of the bed for so long. I pull his shirt off with less difficulty than I imagined it would take. He tosses it aside.

Taking his trousers off was a much more awkward ordeal. It was impossible for him to shimmy out of them completely while on his knees.

He steps off of the bed and hops out of his trousers, resuming his position above me. I hope that didn't spoil the moment too much.

Slowly, sensually, he drags his boxers down. His erection is now visible.

I gulp. THAT'S going inside me? Will it fit?

As soon as his boxers are around mid-thigh, he yanks them off quickly, having no need to move slowly anymore.

His finger traces down my side, curving round to the back as it moves closer to my entrance, and...he stops at the very base of my back, withdrawing his finger.

"Let me just test something," he requests, his thumb and index finger moving to my left earlobe. He gently clasps it and massages small circles.

"What're you doing?" I ask him.

"Y'know, some people have ero... argh, what's the word?"

"Erogenous?" I offer.

"That's it. Some people have erogenous zones in weird places. You know, like Feliciano has one-"

"I don't want to know," I cut in.

"Uhm, sorry. Anyway, apparently some people have them on their earlobes."

"Hm. Well, it feels relaxing, but not erotic."

"Well then," he replies, pulling his fingers away, "this should."

The same fingers, tracing down the same side, reach my nipple. He rubs it, up and down, increasing in pace. I soon find myself panting.

"Al-Alfred," I gasp. "I'm...I'm sensitive there...ah...ah..."

Nobody's ever touched me like this before.

He pauses. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Ahn...I don't mind..."

"To be honest, I'm sorta getting blue balls over here. Can I put it in you already?"

"Alfred! Don't use such vulgar terms!" I scold.

"Damn..." he mutters.

"What?"

"I forgot to bring lube..."

"Oh bloody hell. Perfect," I reply sarcastically, crossing my arms.

"Don't worry, I'll just steal some from someone else's room!"

"You are NOT going out there naked!"

"Dude, everyone wants some of me."

I blush. "But that's..."

"Improper, I know, yadda yadda yadda. Unless you happen to have any lube."

"What?" My cheeks flush redder. "Why would I, of all people, have any of the stuff?"

"I dunno," he responds. "Actually, I might have some. Otherwise, I'll use spit."

I wince. "Doesn't spit dry too quickly?"

"That doesn't matter, I don't last very long anyway!" he replies cheerfully, jumping off of the bed and walking over to his own.

"You're saying that like it's a good thing!" I snap, sitting up. "Let me guess, you're just going to satisfy yourself and not even make me cum and I'll end up finishing it off myself; that is NOT what a good lover does, an-"

I stop ranting, realising what I've just said. He stares at me, shocked by the terms I used. Awkward...

He chuckles. "Wow. I didn't know you even have words like that in your vocab."

"Vocabulary," I correct.

"Whatever." He rummages around under his bed for a few seconds. "Yes!" he cries out, lifting a bottle of lube in the air victoriously.

He returns to his position on top of me, unscrewing the lid of the bottle.

"H-hey, Alfred...is this going to hurt?" I ask, still blushing.

"Don't worry, dude. Trust me, if it hurts, I'll take it out straight away, no matter what."

"Okay," I meekly reply, watching as he covers his cock with lube.

"Ready, babe?" he asks.

"Yes."

"You sure?"

"YES!" I shout desperately.

"Whoaaaaa, somebody's eager for this hot guy!"

"Shut it," I reply.

He lines himself up with my entrance, before slowly sliding himself in.

"Unnnh..." I moan, feeling the friction inside of me.

"You good?"

"Y-yeah..."

As he's moving in further, I suddenly feel an incredibly pleasurable sensation shoot through me, and my body spasms.

"OH GOD!" I cry out.

"Are...you okay? Should I stop?"

"On...on the contrary..." I pant.

"Heh. I found your prostate already."

He retracts slowly, then aims for the same spot again.

"Fuck yes," I moan, shuddering, as he repeats the pattern, moving back and forth in a steady rhythm several times. Each time he hits that sweet spot, I can feel pre-cum gathering around the tip of my length.

"You're...you're so tight...man..."

I can feel pressure building up in my cock.

"A-A-Alfred, I think I'm going to-" I bite my lip, trying to hold back - it'd be selfish to cum first.

"M-me too...on the count of three?"

"O-okay," I stutter.

"One," he begins, thrusting harder with the word.

"T-two," he continues, trembling with the effort of holding back. He thrusts again, harder. I can barely hear him out of sheer, mind-numbing pleasure.

"THREE!" he cries out, and suddenly, it feels hot and sticky down there. I release my own load as well, with Alfred's name on my lips.

I ride out the orgasm, trying to intensify it by replicating Alfred's rhythm.

My hazy vision gradually refocuses. Alfred collapses on top of me, a dopey post-orgasm grin on his face.

"Oi, you're rather heavy," I mutter, weakly attempting to push him off. Intense orgasms really sap your strength, you know?

"Nn... Artie, that felt so good... you, you really ARE a virgin." He chuckles. "Were."

He rolls off of me, forgetting it was only a single bed, and falls onto the floor, not even appearing to be too bothered about it.

"How was it?" he asks, panting.

"It was..." I begin. With my mind clouded, it takes a while to find the right word. "Amazing."

"Glad you enjoyed it, Artie."

"What happened to Arthur?"

"He lost his virginity."

"And thus you revert to using that nickname?"

He sits up, cross-legged. "Should I call you Arthur all the time?"

"Just during sex," I reply after considering the matter. "It adds a bit more of...a romantic quality to it."

Alfred doesn't reply, staring at the wall instead. Without the distraction of talking to him, I become aware of a cooling, sticky mess dripping out of me.

"Uhhh...Alfred, how are we meant to clean up afterwards?"

"Simples, just throw the sheets in one of the washing machines."

"But what if someone sees me with them?"

"Well, they'll be jealous," he replies, pushing himself up onto his knees to rest his upper body on the edge of the bed, looking down at my face.

I roll my eyes. "Still as narcissistic as ever," I mutter.

"Nuh uh, they'll be jealous because I get to do it with you." He kisses my forehead.

"Pfft. Who's going to be jealous?"

"Me," cuts in a voice, "but I think this arrangement is perfectly fine."

Eyes wide with terror, we both turn to the source of the voice. Kiku peeks over the edge of his bed, a camera in his hands, aimed at us.

"Ne, look. I have some good pictures," he says, turning the camera to us. "I could make some hentai out of this," he continues in a casual tone, scrolling through the incriminating pictures, "I'm sure a lot of people would buy it!"

"What did I tell you?" Alfred remarks happily. "That's how sexy we are."

"HE TOOK PHOTOS OF US!" I scream.

"Send them to everyone," he says to Kiku. "Everyone deserves to see Artie naked."

"WHAT?!"

"Hai, I agree. I'll send them now."

I leap up from the bed and run over to him to grab the camera out of his hands; he speeds out of the door.

Which is open. Fuck. Did anyone else see us?

"Elizaveta, you got some good angles too, hai?"

"I sure did!" responds a cheery voice.

I slide out of the door.

"Give me those cameras!" I command.

"Well, well, what happened to propriety?" Elizaveta teases.

"Damn it," I mutter, realising my nudity.

She raises her camera and snaps a photo, so fast it's almost professional. I dive into my room, embarrassed, but not quickly enough. Slamming the door behind me, I turn to Alfred, who's still sitting on the floor with the cheesiest of grins.

"Don't say a word," I hiss, gathering my clothes from the floor, aware of two pairs of rapidly receding footsteps.

* * *

Several months later, I wake up on the morning of December 25th.

I didn't let Alfred engage in *such activities* with me again. Much.

I've rummaged through Kiku's belongings a few times, but I never found his camera in there. I'm still worried about who he's sent those pictures to; nobody's mentioned anything of them.

"Merry Christmas," sings Alfred cheerily.

"Merry Christmas, minna-san," Kiku adds.

"Merry Christmas to you too," I reply, sitting up groggily. Alfred grins childishly, and there's wrapping paper from his presents scattered everywhere.

Just like our clothes that one time... shut up, brain.

I get up, stumbling slightly out of bed. I catch sight of a pile of presents labelled "To Arthur".

The one lying on the top is shaped like a short book or a magazine, so I decide to open it first.

Tearing open the wrapping paper, I see a title in Japanese. Okay, one of Kiku's mangas, this should be interesting. I slide the manga out further and see someone who looks like me (my eyebrows aren't THAT thick, right?) and then one who looks like Alfred.

I remove the rest of the wrapping and look at the now fully exposed cover.

"WHAT THE-?"

* * *

**...and that's the end! Hopefully you enjoyed this :)**

It felt weird making Alfred older but I wanted to keep it legal, y'know?


End file.
